What happened next was in the highest measure unexpected. With not a word of thanks to his wife, with not a word of anger either, this man who had just undergone the most cruel torture and whose body still throbbed with pain hurriedly tottered barefoot to a telephone standing on a table. He was like a hungry man who suddenly sees a piece of bread and snatches at it greedily as the means of saving himself and returning to life. Panting for breath, Essarès took down the receiver and called out:
"Central 40.39."
Then he turned abruptly to his wife:
"Go away," he said.
She seemed not to hear. She had knelt down beside old Siméon and was setting him free also.
Essarès at the telephone began to lose patience:
"Are you there? . . . Are you there? . . . I want that number to-day, please, not
